Goodnight Robicheaux (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
goodnight_robicheaux) wrote2016-12-12 02:02 am
goodnight_robicheaux) wrote2016-12-12 02:02 am
Moonlight Sonata
Goodnight couldn't sleep.
There was nothing new about that, not since he'd come home from the war. In the months he'd stayed at home, trying to keep himself together enough to look after their business interests, Goodnight had suffered bouts of insomnia bad enough that a doctor suggested laudanum to help him sleep.
Most nights, however, he'd come downstairs and played at the piano until he got fed up or tired enough to try to sleep. Apparently someone remembered those habits; when Goodnight found the piano, there was a candle already sitting on it - not lit, but waiting.
Monsieur Lucien does not sleep. He remembered overhearing Anaïs talking to a new member of the household. Monsieur Lucien plays the piano at night; do not be surprised if you hear it. Do not bother him.
Goodnight got the candle lit and set the one he'd brought from upstairs down on the other side of the piano. He lifted the cover and brushed his fingers over the keys, re-familiarizing himself; it hadn't been that long since he played, it had been years since he sat at this particular piano. He knew it would be well-tuned, knew it had been looked after. After a while he began playing the quiet strains of Beethoven's sonata.
There was nothing new about that, not since he'd come home from the war. In the months he'd stayed at home, trying to keep himself together enough to look after their business interests, Goodnight had suffered bouts of insomnia bad enough that a doctor suggested laudanum to help him sleep.
Most nights, however, he'd come downstairs and played at the piano until he got fed up or tired enough to try to sleep. Apparently someone remembered those habits; when Goodnight found the piano, there was a candle already sitting on it - not lit, but waiting.
Monsieur Lucien does not sleep. He remembered overhearing Anaïs talking to a new member of the household. Monsieur Lucien plays the piano at night; do not be surprised if you hear it. Do not bother him.
Goodnight got the candle lit and set the one he'd brought from upstairs down on the other side of the piano. He lifted the cover and brushed his fingers over the keys, re-familiarizing himself; it hadn't been that long since he played, it had been years since he sat at this particular piano. He knew it would be well-tuned, knew it had been looked after. After a while he began playing the quiet strains of Beethoven's sonata.
no subject
no subject
"Let's not indulge that nonsense of sleeping apart," he murmured quietly, almost a plea.
no subject
"Please," he said, an ascent to the request.
no subject
no subject